


stubborn-hearted blue

by fineosaur



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: A little bit of plot, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, apparently i can only write porn now you're all welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22543945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fineosaur/pseuds/fineosaur
Summary: Years later, Arya moves back to the Riverlands, not expecting her neighbour to be the same man she routinely fucked throughout university.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Comments: 57
Kudos: 254





	stubborn-hearted blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thelandofnothing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelandofnothing/gifts).



> title is from the song disco - surf curse  
> happy birthday to my wife! i can't imagine my life without your support and hope you have the best day despite being continents apart!

She was still adjusting to life in the new city. 

Arya hadn’t been in the Riverlands since university, and at this point, it felt like a lifetime ago, a distant memory, more like a dream. But now she had been back for almost a month and boxes still littered her living room, still waiting to be unpacked. between her new job and just trying not to pass out as soon as she was back home, there wasn’t much room for unpacking. 

It was a Saturday night, she had just entered the lift after some last-minute grocery shopping. As the doors slid open to her floor, her phone rang. The incessant vibrating from her pocket refused to stop as she walked towards her door. 

Trying her best to keep her balance with the multiple bags in her hands, Arya carefully manoeuvred her phone out of her jeans and answered the call.

“Yes, Rickon?”

“That’s a rude way to answer your phone,” she could almost hear her little brother’s pout through the phone. After a tiring day she had let her snappy attitude slip, as she did so often. 

“How’re you holding up, Rick?” She adjusted her tone to a less exasperated one. However not managing to hold back her sigh.

Arya rattled her keys as she spoke, balancing her phone between her cheek and shoulder, “Uhh, I’m good… so what is your address again?” Her hands stilled at his question, not hovering with her house key by the door.

“Why- why would you need my address, Rickon?” She heard the sounds of the road and a muffled voice through the phone, “Rickon, where are you?”

“Can you just tell me your address, the cabbie needs it?”

Arya closed her eyes, thinking of all the curse words that came to mind at the sound of Rickon’s revelation. “Tell him Acorn Hall Complex, I live on the third floor, flat 3A.” 

She sighed, her keys falling to the floor as she tried to end the call. As she reached to pick it up, one of her plastic bags broke, hearing the distinct crack that told her it was the bag that had her eggs.  _ That’s what I get for not buying reusable bags _ , she thought.

“For fuck’s sake,” Arya’s voice was loud, as was her groan. 

“Here let me give you a hand,” a deep voice from behind her offered. 

She didn’t even bother to glance at the person it belonged to. “It’s alright, I’m fine, thanks.”

He seemed to be just as stubborn as her, still crouching beside her and gathering her things, the sound of her keys in his hand.

“I said, it’s alright,” she reiterated, frankly annoyed at his insistence. Arya had half a mind to tell him off, that was before she saw him,  _ recognised him. _ “You.” Her voice was barely a whisper as if it had started off as a gasp.

She knew this man, there was no way she would ever forget a face like his. Chiselled jaw, broad shoulders, very distinctly angry brows, ebony tousled locks and the deepest blue eyes she had ever seen. Only now, he looked more a man than before, if that were even possible… his jaw was now covered in a thick, dark beard.

He smiled at her, lobsided as heat rose to his face. He ran his fingers across his bearded jaw, chuckling slightly. “Of course… _ Mercy _ .”

Flashbacks of those eyes glaring at her from between her thighs haunted her, with the deep rumble of his voice.  _ Mercy _ . She’d almost forgotten that they hadn’t exchanged real names, he had always just been ‘The Bull’ to her, courtesy of his bullheaded attitude and surprising size.

“I-“ she remained in shock, seemingly speechless in his presence, “Wow, sorry. It’s been forever. It’s great to see you.”

“Likewise,” he looked like he was meaning to say something, but he stopped himself. “Would you like some help getting those in?”

“Uh yeah, thanks, if you could just-“ she motioned towards the keys in his hand with her chin as she balanced her grocery bags in her arms.

He unlocked the door, wide hands pushing it open before allowing her to enter first. Arya set the things on her counter, asking him to do the same before she properly stood in front of him.

She hadn’t seen him in years. There was no warning that the last time they had seen each other was  _ the last time _ . It had been their usual routine, stumbling upon one another at some stupid party where they would bail in favour of fucking in her dorm room. And as per usual, she’d awoken to him already gone, but after that, her whole last year was spent without seeing him. 

“I haven’t seen you since-“

“Since Anguy’s rager,” he finished, laughing lightly, staring at his shoes before looking back at her. “I’m-“

“ _ Hello? _ ” her already opened door was pushed open wider by her younger brother, “did you get robbed?” Rickon asked, entering, raising an eyebrow at the tall man in her entryway.

“Right, I’ll get going,” he told her, already walking towards the door, cracking a smile at Rickon before sliding out, “it was nice seeing you again, milady.” She smiled at the once hated name and watched him leave. 

“Was that flirting? Is that how old people flirt?” Rickon joked, throwing his duffle bag to the floor.

“I am not that much older than you, Rickon,” she glared at him before enveloping him in her arms. She hadn’t seen him in over a month and somehow the already tall auburn-haired boy, looked as if he’d grown taller in her absence.

“It’s good to see you, Ar,” he said, tracing a finger across several boxes that sprawled around her living room before throwing himself onto the couch. “Travelling is tiring. Do you have anything to eat?”

“I have leftovers… I made lasagna yesterday.”

“I knew I made the right choice coming here.”

“We’ll get to the reasons as to why you’re really here later, for now, help me with my groceries, will you?” Arya waved him over, “that bag broke and I heard the eggs break as well so be careful.”

* * *

Rickon sat sprawled, back against the sofa, his flickering blue eyes looked tired and weary but the small smile on his face let her know that at least he was comfortable. 

They had managed to eat a monstrous amount of food and were both unable to do anything other than lie back and allow their bodies to recharge. Arya could see that Rickon would fall asleep any minute yet he kept fighting it off, it was endearing, seeing the little boy peak out beneath the harder exterior he had grown into.

“I’m sorry I came over unannounced,” he even sounded tired, but he managed to get his words out.

Arya propped her elbow on the back of the sofa, dropping her head into her palm. “That’s alright, I’m just glad you came here rather than anywhere else. At least you’re safe.”

She didn’t want to pry, she knew how her brother was; severely hot-headed and volatile. She seemed to be the only one who didn’t add fuel to the fire he seemed to create around himself, one which pushed people away time and time again. But now she was worried, as any big sister would be.

“Is everything okay at home?” She wondered what it was this time, it could be anything that had set him off, but considering that he turned up at her door, four hours away from their home in Winterfell, she suspected their mother to be the napalm to this situation.

Rickon lifted his head slightly, his long ginger hair came over his eyes, only a glimmer in them in the dim light. He pushed his hair aside, stubborn locks still curling aside. Arya had known why he had kept his hair long and despite his reasons being “because mum says I should cut it.” She knew it was especially so that he could hear their mother scold him for it. It was better than the usual silence after all.

“It’s mum.”

“I figured as much,” she nodded, even her movements felt as if they were in slow motion due to her fatigue. “But what could she have done that prompted you to leave.”

“I’m eighteen, Arya,” he sighed, sitting up properly, she could clearly see the darkened circles underneath those sky blue eyes. “I’m eighteen and it’s a Saturday and I decided to go out.”

She couldn’t seem to understand the issue, her confusion was evident, “Rick, I don’t-“

“She started asking me about where I’m going, telling me I should stay home for once, telling me not to be out till late.”

Arya felt a tight smile form on her lips, one of sympathy. 

“It’s been years.  _ Years _ since she should have been saying those kinds of things… why is it, now that I don’t need it, now that I’ve grown up, that she decides to be a mother again?” His eyes shone brightly, unshed tears gathered in the eyes of a boy who had grown up too fast. 

Arya felt her heart sink. She had stopped making excuses for her mother years ago when she realised that her mum wasn’t the only one affected by her father’s death. It affected all of them; Robb, Jon, Sansa, Bran, Rickon and her as well as her mother. Robb had continued to make allowances for her, but Arya hadn’t. Rickon had been only fourteen, when their mother had stopped being a mother, much less even a person.

She was thankful that it happened when her oldest siblings and her were old enough to take the onus of parenting Bran and Rickon. Bran had always been an easy case, his maturity had always been leagues ahead of his age. Rickon was more reckless, more all over the place, more in need of attention than any one of her siblings.

Arya reached her hand out towards him, swiping a thumb over his glistening cheek, wiping away the tear that had fallen. “I’m sorry I left you,” she felt her guilt in her throat, making her voice sound smaller than it ever was.

She watched his rub his eyes with the heels of his palms, sniffing lightly and acting as if he hadn’t cried. “No,” his little auburn curls bounced as he shook his head. “I just think- I know I overreacted… Bran says I overreact, he says I’m ‘too dramatic’, but I couldn’t help it. I snapped at her and told her she had no right acting like a mother when she hasn’t done that in years and after that I just knew I had to get out of there. So I came here.”

He was staring down at his hands, cracking each knuckle as if he was so interested in what the palms of his hands held.

Rickon exhaled heavily, finally glancing back at her, “You shouldn’t be sorry for leaving, I’m glad you did,” he laughed “elsewhere would I run off to?” 

Arya smiled at this, pulling him into a hug as he struggled, acting as if he had a reputation to maintain despite it just being the two of them. She felt him relax against her, his long limbs no longer stiff and agitated, his sleepiness seeping back in. 

Rickon had fallen asleep after Arya had gotten up to tidying away their dishes. He laid back limply against her sofa, curls covering half his face as she covered him with a blanket. 

* * *

Arya had enjoyed having Rickon over, even if it was only until Tuesday. She had missed being around family, it made her realise how much she had been isolating herself over the last month that she had moved to the new city. She thought about trying to get out there, maybe taking up her colleague, Lyanna’s offer to go out for drinks after work.

Then, opportunity in the form of a tall dark-haired man showed up as she checked her mailbox on the ground floor of their building. He hadn’t noticed her, his eyebrows were knitted into a frown, his mind looked burdened.

“Hey,” she tested, watching his head lift up as he searched for the source of the voice. “We didn’t get to talk properly last time.” Arya noticed that her voice had risen in its pitch. 

He closed his little mailbox, holding the stack of his letters in his large hand. His smile was slightly hesitant as he was caught off guard and slightly flustered. 

“My brother showed up before we got to catch up.”

“Oh yeah, that was your brother?” He passed a hand through his hair, his arms bulging in his shirt which was rolled up halfway up his arm. 

“Yeah, it was,” there was a silence that permeated through them, the kind where it was an ‘I’ve-seen-you-naked-and-moaning-more-times-than-I-could-count-but-now-I-have-to-act-civil-around-you’ kind of silence. “Are you- are you going up?” Arya pointed towards the lifts a few steps behind her.

“Yeah, I was.”

They walked into the lift together, she watched as he eyed her. It heated her skin furiously and made her very conscious of all the clothing that she wished to take off.

He pushed the button to the third floor before stepping behind her, “Quite the coincidence isn’t it - us living just two doors from one another?” 

She hadn’t noticed when he had gotten so close to her but she could feel him just behind her, and when he spoke, she could feel his breath on her neck.

“To think after all this time, I still don’t know your name,” there was a lot more confidence in his voice, the deep tones managed to vibrate through her body and made her want to pin him against the elevator wall.

“Mercy not enough for you?” Arya flirted right back. What was she to do when faced with the man who had been the best sex in her short life.

“I would like a little more than that,” the lift opened to the third floor, Arya made a move to step out, only to be spun around, facing his broad chest. His clear blue eyes were unsurprisingly darkened as they stared back at her. He leaned down, her hair stood up in anticipation, but he only whispered in her ear, “My name’s Gendry.”

Arya felt the loss of his warmth as he slid past her and out the elevator. She stood still, in shock, staring at the metal wall of the lift, trying to steady the rhythm of her heart and the tingling in her stomach.  _ He really knew how to get her riled up. _

* * *

Something about her encounter with Gendry that day on the lifts, Arya couldn't seem to get him out of her mind. It made her hair stand up and a shiver run down to her core. Arya blamed her dry spell and the fact that she had just been reacquainted with the one man who knew how to make her legs numb. 

That weekend, Arya took up Lyanna’s offer to join her for drinks. And on Saturday, she wore a dress she wouldn’t possibly be caught dead in, but the plunging neckline was something she sorely needed for now. 

And yet all that plagued her mind seemed to be the first impression Gendry had left on her all those years ago.

_ She had been having fun, she always had managed that much when faced with a room full of people. But as the night slumbered on, Arya had found herself growing bored of the raging parting going on.  _

_ Wandering around the house, she decided to find some solace and perhaps quiet in one of the many bathrooms. Arya closed the door, sitting on the rim of the bathtub and listened to the dull thud and noise that came from below her, where the music was, where the people were. She hadn’t bothered on turning on the light, deciding that the moonlight from the small window was enough. _

_ She was promptly disrupted by the figure of a tall man. He didn’t notice her, she didn’t blame him, it was dark and he seemed to be having a hard time finding the light switch.  _

_ He eventually found it, the bathroom was lit with a warm yellow light, still pretty dim but it was just enough for her to make her assessment of him.  _

_ He was glorious, dark tousled hair, broad shoulders on a well-defined body. She wanted to climb him the minute she saw him. He still hadn’t noticed her.  _

_ He was leaning heavily on the small white sink, hands gripping the edge as he closed his eyes, shaking his head. _

_ Arya took a swig of the beer in her hand, “You alright?” She asked, watching his head snap towards her direction. His eyes were a haunting shade of blue. Piercingly deep and somehow warm despite its icy colour. _

_ “I’m sorry,” even his voice was hot, deep and smooth, “I hadn’t realised it was occupied. I’ll leave you.”  _

_ “Or you could stay?” Arya let her eyes roam his body, settling on the fact that she surely liked the way his jaw was chiselled and firm.  _

_ “Alright,” he cracked a small smile, walking towards her and taking a seat on the rim of the bathtub beside her, “could I ask for a name?” _

_ “You could,” she nodded, “Mercy.” _

_ She handed him her bottle, watching his mouth open as if he were about to say something, she didn’t want that though. Arya kissed him instead. Her hands cupped his face as she felt his one hand slink around her waist.  _

_ He stood up, pulling her with him as he did so, bringing her closer to his body. He was strong, his lips were smooth but his kiss was hard and desperate.  _

_ Arya found her back against the edge of the porcelain sink, hearing a clink as he placed the amber bottle on the glass mantle by the mirror. _

_ She kissed him deeper when both his hands wandered down her body, his fingers catching on her fishnets.  _

_ He pulled away, those entrancing eyes darkened by want. “Are you sure about this — you don’t even know my name?” She couldn’t seem to draw her eyes away from his lips. _

_ “Doesn’t matter,” she pulled him in again, feeling his restraint fall away. _

Arya brought herself out of her daydream, instead soaking up the soft chatter of the pub and in the hazy light, her eyes settled on the woman beside her. 

She hadn’t known Lyanna long, they were new colleagues after all. So she wasn’t entirely sure if the dark-haired woman had asked her out to drinks, to hit on her or as a friendly thing. 

“How long have you lived here?” 

Lyanna took a healthy chug of her beer before answering Arya’s question.

“Must be about 7 years now,” she took a sip this time, wiping her mouth with her hand before continuing, “My mum moved here with my sisters and I. Ever since I’ve been stuck here.”

“I get the feeling, I was here for a while too. Never thought I’d end up back here.”

“Either way, it’s good to have someone else from the North around here-“ Arya’s eyes no longer surveying the pub, glanced at Lyanna when she abruptly stopped her sentence. She saw her phone in her hand, lighting up and buzzing. “It’s Dacey, just give me a minute.”

Arya watched Lyanna make her way to the bathroom, turning to her drink she let her mind wander once more.

It was a few minutes later when Lyanna came back, apologising, saying that she had to leave. She spoke fast, Arya couldn’t seem to piece together what happened but she agreed on rescheduling their drinks to next week.

* * *

When she made it back to her flat, Arya let her feet lead her from the elevator, but leaving 3A behind and making her way towards another door. 

She hesitated with her fist hovering by the door but gave in and knocked thrice. 

She had wanted to turn away and run towards her door, act like nothing ever happened, but then he opened the door. His hair was messy and dark as ever and his clothes looked so soft, so comfortable, she almost just wanted him to hold her and tell her she’d be alright. 

Gendry smiled at her, it was more of a smirk, surely cocky, especially with the way he crossed his arms and leaned against his door frame.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, milady?” His voice was raspy, rough and a bit rugged, it worked so well with how he looked, his dark bearded jaw and eyes both looking strong. She tried hard not to focus on the bulge of his biceps straining against the short sleeves of his grey t-shirt.

Arya took hold of his t-shirt, pulling him down into a kiss, a forceful one that turned into something close to tender as he unfolded his arms and held her tightly. He smelt fresh, like soap, the smell encapsulated her senses and she pulled away.

“Arya,” she took a deep breath, “ _ my name’s Arya _ .”

She saw a glimmer of triumph in his blue eyes at the sound of her name. He stared at her a while longer, clearly soaking up the way her body looked in her sinful dress.

“Well Arya, would you like to come in?” Her name dripped off his lips and left her wanting more of him. Arya gladly stepped past the threshold, allowing her hand to take his t-shirt back into its grip, Arya pulled him along with her.

She wound her arms around his neck, kissing him again, feeling his hands wander down her body. When his hands reached under her dress, she felt him halt as he generously cupped her arse.

“I’m not wearing anything underneath this,” Arya confirmed his unspoken question, whispering in his ear. He groaned at this, his movements hurried as he blindly led her towards his bedroom.

Gendry pulled away from her, cupping her jaw for a second as he looked down at her 

“You look-” he took a sharp intake of breath, “ _ you look beautiful. _ ”

Arya felt her stomach flutter, she pulled him into another kiss, a softer one, successfully distracting him before pushing him onto his bed.

She bit her lip, making sure to keep her eyes on his as she reached behind to unzip her dress. She saw the way his chest rose and fell at the sound of the zip sliding down her back.

Her dress cascaded off her body and pooled by her feet and she watched the way his eyes darkened, determination lining his formerly clear blue irises.

Arya took pride in the way his eyes roamed her naked body. She got closer to him, putting her one knee on the bed between his legs and helping him out of his t-shirt. She drank in the sight of his body, the pleasing ridges of his muscled chest and the dark hair that spattered his chest. 

She had just laid a hand on him, letting it travel down his body, when he pulled her body towards his, making her fall into his lap. Arya felt her head spin by the way his hands touched her. It seemed that each time his hands moved, his eyes followed them, her body felt worshipped under his gaze, especially when he looked up at her, eyes lingering on her lips before meeting her eyes, always darting down to her lips once again.

It all felt as if it was in slow motion yet so hasty as well. When Gendry laid back against the bed, he only continued to stare at her sat upon his lap with his hands crawling up her thighs, coming up her body to rest on her waist and the small of her back. 

“Sit on my face.”

It wasn’t a question, or maybe it was. It hadn’t sounded like one, perhaps more a suggestion, either way, it sent a shiver up her body, as if she’d been pleasantly electrocuted in the pit of her stomach. They were hardly new to one another’s bodies, but in all their spontaneous rendezvous throughout university, this was one thing they’d never done.

Arya took hold of Gendry’s hands, sliding them off her body. She held them for a while, feeling the obvious strength in his big hands before setting them above his head. She saw the way he lifted his head as she pinned him down, reaching for her. 

She wasn’t restraining him by any means, just putting him out of the way for now, because of course, she would need him to have use of his hands.

Kissing him first, a hearty one, biting his bottom lip before pulling away, hearing his soft gasp, Arya lifted herself. She saw the way his eyes somehow stayed locked on hers. Even when her whole body was aligned with his face, his eyes seemed intensely captivated by what her face had to offer.

Just then, his hands came back to wander up her thighs once more, offering her to sink down. 

Arya slowly let herself down, feeling his mouth against her, his beard tickling her inner thighs as she still hovered by his face. When she fully allowed herself to be seated on his face, she buried a hand in his hair, rocking her hips slightly as his mouth did the work. 

She could hardly focus on just one thing, between his tongue, the hum within his throat that sent a chill through her and the way his mouth sucked on her harder. Arya felt herself coming apart by just his mouth. 

Arching her back, throwing her head back, not even bothering to keep her eyes open, she felt the way her body trembled at his efforts. Arya let herself fall forward, her one hand still in his hair, the other on the mattress balancing herself.

Arya met his mouth with the rhythm of her hips, feeling herself less and less restrained with every passing moment. 

“Agh, Gendry,” she let herself moan loudly, not sure if she could even hear herself think, let alone speak.

“Fuck!” Gendry’s hands gripped her arse tightly as she came, she was sure she had probably cried a bit louder than she should have, but she could hardly keep it in. 

She had felt like she was floating, so it wasn’t a shock when she realised that Gendry had somehow gotten her to lie back on the bed, no longer (most likely) suffocating him. Arya felt him kissing a path up her body, the already tingling sensation was met with the softness of his kisses. 

He made his way to her throat, kissing higher until he was kissing her neck, right below her ear, where she liked it most.

“You’re-“ Arya moaned, “you’re overdressed.” She tugged the waistband of his joggers.

Gendry lifted his head, grinning at her before leaning down to kiss her, between which he grabbed ahold of her wandering hands and took them in his. With his fingers interlaced with hers, he pinned her hands above her head, much like she had done a little earlier.

“I’d forgotten how impatient you are,” he joked, kissing her again. His tongue darted out to meet hers, her mouth opening on instinct to deepen their kiss.

By the way, he ground against her, she could tell how obviously hard he was, despite the fact that he was still in his joggers. She heard his groan, even though it was muffled by her lips. He rocked against her harder as she tried to free her hands, making it very obvious how strong he was and that he really did keep in shape since uni. 

Arya’s lips left his, she moaned his name loudly on instinct, “Gods,  _ Gendry _ ,” he looked up at her, rocking against her once more as her leg tightened around his waist. 

Gendry kissed her hard before letting go of her and getting off the bed. Arya sat up to watch him, to admire his body, despite still clothed, she stared at the slopes of defined muscle,  _ he had a great arse _ .

He took out a foil-wrapped condom from his nightstand, holding it out to her as she came to the side of his bed. 

Arya kneeled on his bed, watching carefully as he finally rid himself of his pants. He proudly stood before her, reaching a hand out to hold her by the nape of her neck, kissing her tenderly as she held him. 

The closer they got, the warmer she felt with the way his skin felt against hers. Arya pulled him down, their lips not leaving each other until he was on the bed. He was sat with his back against the headboard when Arya pulled away, throwing a leg over his to straddle him. 

His hands wandered the expanse of naked skin on her body, holding onto her waist as she ripped open the condom. She heard the way he groaned as she rolled the condom onto his cock, taking her time to draw out the action. Gendry’s head hit the headboard as she did so.

As Arya aligned him, taking him in slowly, she held onto him. Her hands were on his shoulders, forearms leaning against his chest. Gendry’s hand stayed at her waist, one of them on the small of her back. 

Her forehead was against his hearing his pants when she finally sat down and rocked her hips. 

Arya slowly found her pace, going faster as Gendry gripped her waist. Occasionally his hands would trail up her body to cup her breasts, rolling a nipple and pinching slightly. 

She leaned down to kiss him, slowing down as she became distracted by his lips. With his tongue against hers, Arya hadn’t noticed when Gendry’s hand slid down her body, thumb beginning to circle her clit. 

Arya’s lips left his, her hand burying itself in his hair as she kissed down his neck. She held onto him tightly as he flipped them over, easily, as if she barely weighed anything. 

“You’ve changed, but you’re the same.”

Arya hadn’t gotten the chance to ask him exactly what he meant, becoming preoccupied with the way he thrusted into her. She let her hands trail down the taut muscles of his back, coming to rest at his waist, pulling him closer. 

“Gendry,” she moaned, “fuck me.” Her grip on his waist tightened as well as her legs around him.

Gendry kissed her, it was a bit uncoordinated given that all his attention was on the way his hips snapped against hers. He pulled away, biting her bottom lip, making her gasp.

He pried her hand off his waist, holding her hand in his, pinning her down on the mattress before pulling out of her almost entirely and rocking back into her hard and fast. Arya arched her back against the bed, her hand tightening in his. 

She felt him bite down on her neck between kisses, his hips at the perfect angle, she knew she was close. 

“I want to feel you come,” his voice was strained, but just as deep and raspy. 

Arya hated herself for succumbing to the sound of his words just after he’d asked her to. She arched deeper, feeling her body lift itself as she came. She felt him continue, but at a slower pace, his eyes never leaving her. 

Gendry stilled for a while, kissing her delicately, his lips soft against hers. She cupped his jaw, feeling his beard under her palm. 

He found his rhythm once more but it wasn’t quite erratic as earlier. His movements were sedated as his lips moved to the hollow of her neck. All the same, it still felt incredible. 

When she felt his body still and go rigid, she wrapped her legs around him tightly, hearing his groan by her ear. 

Everything about it felt different.

* * *

Hours later, Arya was in Gendry’s bed as he slept beside her. He had an arm around her waist as he slept. 

She found it hard to fall asleep, given that her mind wouldn’t shut off. Arya found herself thinking of their time spent together, not long ago but it felt like an entirely different life. 

She remembered how it would go, they’d run into one another at a party, have brilliant sex and then talk until they drifted off. Either way, he’d always be gone in the morning. 

This time felt different. He was sleeping beside her, they were in his bed rather than hers and of course… now she knew his name. 

And despite it, somehow she didn’t feel scared. Arya felt relief, she felt herself breathing fresh air at the start of something new, something she hadn’t felt in years. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!  
> love,  
> [fineosaur](https://fineosaur.tumblr.com)


End file.
